


Taste So Sweet

by saltandlimes



Series: To Join an Imperial Family [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Emperor Hux, Exhibitionism, M/M, Sad!Leia, Tumblr Prompts, a tiny bit of blood, hux fights dirty, sex in the throne room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7373878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attack in the throne room while Kylo is busy leaves Hux defending himself. Kylo is horrified that Hux had to get his hands dirty. Hux lets him apologize. </p><p>No need to read the rest of the series, unless you want all the sad!Leia feelz</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste So Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Written partially for a tumblr prompt:
>
>> you know that Domhnall Gleeson quote about Hux being a dirty fighter? You could use that as a jumping off point or something. So yeah I guess the prompt would be Hux fighting dirty? OR that quote?

It's late, and Hux is tired. The audiences have stretched interminably today, and without Kylo beside him, the last two hours have been an exercise in unbounded boredom. He's forgotten what it's like to sit on this chair, straight and tall, and not have dark hair to comb absently through, a pair of soft lips to stroke every so often, fingers brushing over pale teeth, licked by a warm tongue. 

But Kylo is... socializing. Hux had laughed this morning, laughed at the pout on Kylo's face, and fluttered his fingers, dismissed Kylo with less than a word. He'd never thought that this visit to Leia Organa, this _part of a deal_ would be more that just an exercise in seeing Kylo uncomfortable. 

Hux didn't think he'd miss him.

But he does, and every minute of these last hours has been a constant frustrated refrain, a horrible cycle. Why does Organa get him right now? What ever possessed Hux to make a deal like this? What is Organa doing to him, saying to him? Why should Hux even have to think about Organa?

He knows, of course. Knows that Organa's fealty, the image of Alderaan's indomitable princess kneeling to the Emperor splashed across every holocast in the galaxy, is worth any number of personal sacrifices. Letting Organa spend a few hours a week alone with Kylo is a small price to pay for destroying the Resistance leadership once and for all. It's a little thing to give away compared to all he gained when he publicly welcomed Organa into the imperial family. 

And he knows something more important than that. He knows that Kylo will not be swayed. He knows that his fears are groundless.

Kylo is his. Forever. 

But it doesn't stop him from hating every moment they are apart, every second that he cannot pinch and twist at Kylo's soft skin, run too-harsh fingers over the long scar on his face. And it doesn't stop that longing from distracting Hux from the petitioners. 

There's a crash, and Hux realizes that the great doors at the end of the hall have slammed two, the audiences finally over for the day. There's a guard at the end of the hall, one Hux doesn't recognize, and that's odd. But it's odd in the half noticed, unimportant way that things often seem when Kylo isn't around, odd in a way that Hux almost takes no notice of. Or would, if the guard weren't the only other person in the room. 

That's enough to make Hux sit up a little straighter, to push thoughts of Kylo out of his head. And the strange guard is walking toward him now. And he must be the only one, left alone with Hux because some of his personal detachment for the day are guiding Organa back to her chambers now – an honor guard of jailers in the finest silks. And Hux stands as the guard gets closer.

There's almost no warning, no moment before there is a knife whistling past Hux's face to embed itself in the heavy wood of his chair. And he's rolling before he can think about it, diving down low and throwing himself towards the guard. And for a moment, an insane panicked instant, he wonders why he doesn't feel the heat of a blaster, smell the raw crackle of burning flesh. Then he remembers the alarms Kylo insisted they install, the alarms that would have tripped if a blaster fired in this room. 

And then there's no more time to think, because another knife is swinging up, and Hux blocks it just in time, shoving the guard's hand away in a quick slap. Then he's slamming a fist into the man's wrist, making him drop the blade, a ringing clang on the floor as it hits the marble. And there's a slap of hands, a scratch of nails. 

And Hux is spitting in the man's face, in the eye of the false guard, teeth bared and eyes sharp. And the man flinches, just time enough for Hux to get a hand around his throat. And then Hux is squeezing, digging his nails in as he knees the imposter in the balls, knees as hard as he can. The man is doubling up, curling in on himself, trying to wretch, but Hux won't let go of his throat, can feel blood start to ooze out from underneath his nails now. And there's the beginning of a gurgle from the false guard's throat. 

And then Hux had him on the ground, is slamming a fist into the guard's face as he continues to choke him. The imposter's eyes go hazy, vague. 

And then, then there's a flurry of black fabric, a rush of wind. 

The imposter stops twitching under Hux's fingers. 

And Hux steps back, stares at the man who is frozen on the floor, contorted, bleeding from the deep gouges in his neck. 

He checks his nails. 

One is broken. 

And then, finally, he looks up at Kylo. Because that's who it is, that's who has finally shown up to hold the assassin pinned to the floor. And he can't help but feel a flare of annoyance, of frustration, as he stares at Kylo's flushed, terrified face. 

“You're a little late.” His voice is flat. And he can see Kylo trembling, but it doesn't really matter, not when he has blood streaking his fingers, an ache in his knee. Not when Kylo was with _Organa_ , with that captive (for all that she's supposedly loyal to his empire). Kylo looks up at him, eyes huge.

“Hux. Hux, _I'm sorry. Oh. Hux._ ” His voice is full of something so close to pain that Hux smirks, smiles at how much Kylo feels now, feels for him. And he steps over, runs a bloody hand through Kylo's hair. 

But he can smell her on him. He _can_. Hux is certain of it, sure that the faint sent of her perfume still lingers where she must have been too close, where she tried too hard to draw Kylo back to her by a soft embrace and whispered love. And it won't work, of course not, Kylo is his now, but Hux can't stand the thought of Organa even dreaming of taking what is his by right. 

So he steps back, keeps his eyes hard as he runs them over Kylo's tense spine. 

“I don't think you're sorry enough, Kylo. Do you see this?” He waves his hand. And he's not sure if he means the man lying on the floor, still trapped under the force of Kylo's outstretched mind, or if he means the blood spattered down Hux's front, or even his hair, which has to be slightly disarrayed. Maybe everything. 

“This is a mess, and you weren't here to stop it happening.” And it doesn't matter, of course, if he's the one who ordered Kylo to spend time with Organa, that he laughed over the notion at night in their room. No, all that matters is this. 

The man on the floor groans, and Hux tears his gaze away from Kylo's face, from the tears that have started to leak out. The imposter's eyes seem to have refocused, and he's staring at Kylo in terror. But it's Hux he should be worried about, Hux who steps up close, slams a heavy booted foot into his side. And he can't even shrink away, held as he is by the Force. 

“Who sent you?” Hux kicks him again. “Why are you here?” He'll let the interrogators at this false guard, of course, but he's found that sometimes the combination of his icy glare and Kylo's sheer power, slavish devotion is enough to get even the hardest men to talk. 

“No- no one _sent_ me.” The man coughed, blood dribbling from a corner of his mouth. “The Resistance doesn't have to send people anywhere. We come on our own.” Hux laughs. The Resistance is a joke, especially now.

“Oh. Were you trying to rescue your General, perhaps? I have to tell you, trying to kidnap a member of the Imperial family is a fairly serious offense.” And Hux can feel his smile widen even more at the grimace that twists the man's face, can feel his teeth flashing in a unhinged grin. 

“That traitor?” The imposter does spit now, but Hux thinks it's affectation as much as it is a need to rid his mouth of blood. “We'll never take that bitch back. She's yours now, Your Imperial Majesty.” Hux smiles down at him, kinder now, approving. 

“Did you hear that, Kylo? He called your mother a traitor. What a silly fool.” Hux bends down, whispers in the man's ear. “She's not a traitor, you gullible fool. She's just as much of a prisoner as you will be. As you are.” And he stands, motions to the other guards who have finally made their way into the room. 

“Take him away. And throw him somewhere to rot for a while. Make sure he doesn't bleed out, I suppose, but nothing else.” Hux turns away, doesn't watch as they drag the man from the room, that man who is already dead, even if he doesn't know it. Instead he stalks back to his throne, settles down onto the edge of it. When the room is finally clear of anyone but Kylo, he motions. 

“Come, Kylo. Kneel before me.” Kylo comes forward on hesitant steps, but when he's closed half the gap between them, Hux suddenly remembers the smell from before. And he flings a hand up, stops Kylo in his tracks. “Clothes off. Now. All of them.” Kylo's prettier that way anyway. 

And Kylo pulls off the robe without a second thought. He's down to his thin inner shirt – none of that strange mesh that Snoke made him wear – and his leggings, boots off in a stumbling tumble towards Hux. The leggings come off more slowly, but a pointed look is all it takes, Hux's eyes narrowed, staring. 

And then Hux is watching as Kylo climbs the stairs to the dais, falls to his knees. His head is bowed, eyes on the floor. 

He's still crying. 

And the tears must taste so sweet. 

But Hux doesn't bend down, lick them away. Not now. Kylo doesn't deserve that. Not when Hux has had to do all the work today. No, instead he leans back in the thrown, spreads his legs apart. A flick of his fingers has Kylo shuffling forward, fitting himself between Hux's knees. And Hux smooths a hand across the bulge in his trousers, his cock that has been hard since he dug his fingers into the imposter's throat. It's so sweet, but Kylo's hungry eyes, still misty with tears, are even better. 

“Do you know how you can make it up to me?” Kylo nods, lost in looking at Hux, and Hux wonders if he even remembers they're still in the throne room, still in public view, still where a straggling petitioner could catch a glimpse of them. He wonders if Kylo would care if he did remember. 

It's unlikely. 

No, right now, Kylo would probably let himself get fucked in front of the entire court, collared and chained, Leia Organa looking on, if it meant that Hux would excuse his failure. He'd moan in front of all of them if it meant Hux would accept his apology. And Hux might, then. He's going to now, he decides. 

“I asked you a question,” he reminds Kylo, and Kylo winces at the snap in his voice.

“Could I... could I help you with that, Hux?” And he sounds like he wants to beg, sounds so desperate, but that's not what makes Hux's cock twitch in his trousers. No, that's the way that a string of spit runs down Kylo's chin unbidden, the way that Kylo is already drooling for his cock. 

“Suck my cock, Kylo. Suck it while I sit on my throne, while you're naked in my palace. Show anyone who walks in just what the Knight-consort will do for the Emperor. Show them. And show me how much you're sorry. Show me how much you'd rather my dick in your mouth than whatever shit Organa was feeding you.” Kylo nods, too quick, too eager, but it's good, sends sparks down into the very bottom of Hux's spine. 

Hux pulls open his trousers, wraps a bloody hand around his cock, and uses the other to pull Kylo closer, to tangle in Kylo's loose hair. Then he's feeding his cock into Kylo's waiting mouth. A little moan escapes him at how hot it is, how sloppy wet Kylo feels as he moans, as Hux pushes forward. 

And this is how they have always been fated to be.

Hux, on the throne. 

Kylo kneeling before them.

No rules, no laws, nothing that can bind them. Only Hux's will, enough for both of them. The galaxy below Hux's feet, and Kylo swallowing tight around Hux's cock, sucking as though he can prove his worth in every way that matters. 

Maybe he can. 

As Hux thrust forward, he wonders. Maybe this is Kylo's true worth. Not the cocksucking, because that is something Hux could get anywhere. No. Perhaps it is Kylo's ease on his knees. Maybe it is his willingness to be led. Possibly his utter devotion to Hux, to the man who took him out of Snoke's clutches. To Hux, who will always accept him back. To Hux, who will fuck the tears out of him, fill him up with come and spite and power.

And then Kylo hums around him, and Hux feels his balls twitch, feels his cock harden a little more. This is going to be over quickly, he's sure of it. Because he can see the blood in Kylo's hair, the only decoration, the only mark over Kylo's naked body. 

And then. 

And then the door creeks open and a pair of guards step into the room, glance down the hall to Kylo, kneeling at Hux's feet, to where their Emperor fucks Kylo Ren's tight mouth as he kneels before the throne. And it's too much, and he's arching into Kylo's mouth, a whimper ringing out in the room, a bitten off groan. Kylo swallowing around him as Hux drives deep into his throat, spills into him. 

One of the guards coughs. 

And Kylo turns round, lips dripping come, face wet with tears, hair damp with sweat.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to chat [@saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
